Nothing But Time
by AlternateMirai
Summary: Throughout four-hundred years, Luffy and Zoro were reincarnated continuously. They had searched high and low for their crew, in hopes that they would have been there too. But to no avail. Now, in the modern age, they are just trying to live to the fullest. ZoLu.


**Heya people. How's it going? Nah, I don't care.**

 **So, I hardly proof-read this first chapter at all, so I don't know if its any good. But I really didn't feel like it, so this is what we're stuck with for now.**

 **Now, Zoro is a little OOC in this chapter, but I have a good explanation for that. Zoro is still a child. Now, I know that doesn't make sense to you, because 'Zoro is older than and old man', and all that. But truthfully he is a child at heart, despite the mind. If that doesn't make sense, then I'll spell it out for you. Zoro was born as a child. A child is young, immature, and craving for attention. He was born with that mentality just like any other child. Just because he live a whole bunch of other lives, doesn't mean that he will naturally be mature. (I hope that made sense)**

 **Luffy is going to be pretty OOC throughout the whole thing, so deal with it.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

Life was cruel.

That's what they learned so many years ago, when they were children. When they were real children.

It was made brutally clear that not everything was black and white, but nor was it gray.

They both had gone through so many things before turning the young age of ten. They had been hurt, bad. It was quite a miracle that they ended up okay, some would tell them.

It was worse to know that their precious Nakama had been through things hardly imaginable to them.

They had often spent time together, in the middle of the night, expressing the need to protect them, to each other. They wanted to keep them from ever hurting again. They wanted to destroy the thing that caused it.

It was because of that cruelty, though, that they earned their dreams. And they almost could have thanked the world for it, but that could not be done, not until hell froze over. Nothing could ever have convinced them of that, no matter how much the ocean glittered.

After their tragedies, they had vowed that they would grab hold of that one thing, that something they yearned for. The thing that they would die for.

And that was why -how they meet each other. How all of them came together. How they became a family. A family not connected by blood, but by their bond. The bond that they worked so hard to create.

They cared for each other. Shared with each other. They laughed. Screamed. Cried. Everything was together.

And the whole reason that they were like that, as a group of outcasts, was caused by the cold-blooded torture that they all went through, once upon a time.

And then something would happen, just as something always did. They would have to fight to keep their crew together or die trying. But it always turned out okay. Because no matter what, they were a family, and family protected each other, no matter the consequence.

They felt the need to be close to them. It was them that kept them sane in a messed up world.

That's how it was. And they thought, they truly thought, that it would stay that way, for eternity.

But the world was cruel.

Whatever it gave them, it could, and would, take away at the end of the day. It crushed you, destroyed the heart that was taped back together when they were children.

Because nothing lasts.

Just before dawn, just before they reached that golden sun, it all disappeared. Everything they cared for was torn apart and stomped on. The sun they reached for turned a blood red. They no longer wanted to think about what they used to speak about with fond and determined eyes. They feared what would happen if they flew too high for the second time.

The anxious, angry, and empty child that they had once hidden behind a mask that was grinning forever was standing there, mask broken at his feet.

The nine olive leaves were left only two. Olive leaves no longer, but hidden away for years, searching for some unfathomable way to bring back what was ripped from their grasp.

It was not found.

But the clock ticked twelve hours too soon. And they had to return to a home that threw them into that cruelty.

* * *

 ** **Chapter 1: A flower is no better than a weed****

 **( The year 1850)**

Zoro brought a hand up to his face, then placed it softly against his left eye as he sighed tiredly. It felt almost strange, being able to see from it.

Each passing year had seemed to only make things more aggravating to no longer have, unlike what he had expected.

He rather liked the scar he earned from his rival, seeing it as a reminder to work harder, but he would have been more than happy if it were gone back then. Though now with it absent, along with every other he had received, he felt he needed them there.

He placed his feet that were once crossed over his bed, on the floor, embracing the chill that clung to his feet as soon as they touched against the wood.

Any normal teen his age would have asked themselves the reason they didn't get the room with a rug in it, then be reminded that it was because their younger sister had 'called it first'. But he was not like 'other teens', and he had no real reason to complain, not if he was just going to leave that day.

He pressed his hands on the bed resting at each side of him and pushed himself up, leaving him standing beside a green sheeted bed.

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes to rid himself of the voice in the back of his head, telling him that he wanted to stay, live with his family. But, just like every other one, they were not his family. They were just some strangers that raised him until he could go back, go back to him, yet he knew them well.

Zoro opened his eyes, revealing pitch black orbs, void of light,l despite the illuminated room.

He walked to his closet, where he picked out a faded brown oxford and a pair of black shorts and a brown. He dressed slowly, taking his time to fold his night-clothes in between every change.

He slipped a pair of knee high black socks onto his feet, hiding the lower calf and foot under black boots. He then fit a dull gray newsboy cap onto his mess of green hair.

He deeply missed his old outfit, especially the Haramaki. And he hated not being able to walk around with his swords on his hip, let alone having them next to him.

But he would get his swords back soon. Hardly that long now.

Once finished, he proceeded to put his folded clothes into their rightful places.

He moved to his door, placing his hand on the doorknob, and pushed it open with only a moment of hesitation. He reminded himself that was not leaving until night, he had a whole day to spend there.

He couldn't deny he was attached to his family, but not enough to stay with them forever, in fact, he felt nothing about leaving. He could easily forget them after only a week. But it was the inner child that never had loving parents -or parents at all -despite every parent he had throughout the many times he'd been born-, the child wanted to feel the love that they radiated out towards him. And though he was mentally hundreds of years old, he was only nine physically, he was at an age -something he came to realize along the way- where he needed that the love the most, other than being a very young child.

He was used to not having it though, it was the life he lived first, after all, so he could survive without.

Closing the door behind him, he stepped down the staircase to the first floor of his house. As he finished the last steps, he sniffed the air, getting a big whiff of a luxurious aroma. Chili soup and fresh baked buns, he concluded.

Intent on feasting upon the thing that emitted the essence, Zoro entered the kitchen, where he saw his mother, back turned to him, at the stove, stirring a good sized pot. On the table there were buns, sitting in a crowd in a bowl. There were four bowls placed at the four sides of the table, spoons next to it.

His mother turned her head, a large smile growing on her face. "Oh! Zoro," she exclaimed, excitedly, fully facing him now. "Breakfast's just 'bout ready, I made one of your favorites!" She tucked her blond hair behind her ear as he set her ladle down.

He was born, as usual, with his unnatural green hair. His father had dark brown hair, and neither by any means had the genes of green hair. His parents seemed to fawn over his hair, saying it was 'cute' or something stupid like that. He usually pouted, secretly happy that he wasn't thrown away because of it like some had done.

"Why don't you seat yourself, 'm sure your sister and father will be 'ere soon."

He grinned back at her, taking a seat just as he was told. Waiting almost impatiently for the meal. Only two more.

Soon enough, his father came down, holding his four-year-old sister in his arms. They all exchanged a smile as a greeting, while his sister, Emily, was placed in a seat next to him. "Hey, ya' little devil," he snickered to the girl. She pouted, then glared. And the most adorable glare he'd seen in this life. Pouty lips mixed with wide eyes angled just enough to look a little menacing only made it better.

He patted her head. She gave up and turned her face back to a grin.

Just as his father was in his own seat, the pot was set on the table, under a heat pad.

"Than's, mama!" the little girl shouted eagerly as her bowl was filled. He just nodded gratefully at her when he got his. His father smiled and pecked her lips after his was filled.

After they were all served, bread in their hand or the soup, they ate mostly silently, only a few accidental slurps and the clink of the spoon against the glass bowl.

He was on his third when he finally resolved himself to speak the words he had been trying to say the whole time. "Mum," he started. The woman smiled up at him with a questioning 'hm'. "Thanks… it's really good… And, for everything." They weren't hard words to say, not in the slightest. It was the feeling he got after they were out that delayed it. The feeling of betraying her, and all of them. It was that damn part of him that grew up with them, it needed to shut up because he had two more 'thank you's' to go. One for each of his family.

He was earned a puzzled look from all of them, even Emily, who he thought was too young to even understand what was weird about his actions.

"Zoro…" it was his father who started, a soft voice that he unconsciously loved playing in his ears. "Is something wrong? You've been a little happy, lately." His father joked a lot about how he was serious about everything often.

He was usually much more… rude, but he was trying not to be, right before he left. It seemed that just made his suspicious. He hadn't had a family this good in a long, long time, and he was savoring it, so he wouldn't stop.

"Yea', yea', papa," he slurred out to him. "Yer' just bein' crazy." He tried hard to make himself sound like a drunken man, and he did very well. Good to know he hadn't lost his touch.

Speaking of which, he was really missing a good mug of beer. But it wasn't really normal, or good, for a nine-year-old to be drinking, so wait he had to.

A laugh resounded throughout the room, coming from both parents. After that, they were back to the silent meal.

As he put the last spoon of soup in his mouth, he glanced at the clock that day on the counter. When he finished swallowing and set his spoon down, he turned to his dad. "Nah, pa'," he spoke.

When his father was looking at him, he continued. "Didn't your work start twenty-four minutes ago?" he asked.

He watched the man choke on his bite of bread, eyes widening. "You're kidding!" The man whipped his head to the clock, then inhaled the last bit and ran to his room to grab his coat, shouting thanks to him.

Seconds later, his father was at the door, shoving his arm into the sleeve.

He smiled at him.

Just as the door was opened, he called out to him. "Wait, pa!"

"Yeah!?" was called back to him, halfway out the door.

"Thanks!"

"Sometimes, I just can't understand you!" was all that good dad said.

* * *

"Zo'o! Zo'o!" the little Emily shouted, raising her arms up to him. He crouched down to her, so he could be the same height.

"Yeah, squirt?" he answered.

"Up." She basically demanded.

Complying with her request, he stood, lifting her onto his hip as he did so. He knew exactly what to expect for her next movement and braced himself for a pair of small feet to be stepping all over him.

Just as predicted, Emily maneuvered herself to be sitting on his shoulders, using both his arms and face as a leverage, almost pulling off his hat as she used that to help pull her up.

Zoro knew from experience, that it would do nothing but make it harder if he tried to help her there.

After she fully situated herself, she pointed forward. "Go, howsie."

He laughed just a bit, placing his hands on her small legs to keep her secure. Then took off, running around the room as a makeshift horse for his baby princess.

He listened to her laugh, glad that he was the one causing her the emotion. He grinned proudly to himself as he turned another time.

They played like that for only ten minutes or so before Emily decided she was bored of it. He himself could have gone on for the whole day running. Not because it was fun, or anything like that, he was just strong enough to do so.

Every time, he would try to get back to his full strength, only to lose it when he was born again. But still did it. It was a tradition he silently made for himself, and like, his only hobby.

They sat on the sofa, little girl on his lap, thinking of something else to play. Emily had mentioned a few games, tag, charades, something he found boring, so he gave some type of excuse for them.

Eventually, something was decided. Not by him. Emily made the choice, jumped off from his lap, facing him with a smile.

"Dan'," she said.

A soft smile grew on his face and he stood, taking her hands into his own.

She stepped on his shoes and he balanced her so she wouldn't fall.

He moved his feet, and hers along with them, stepping into a slow, one person, waltz. They glided around the room, he would pick her up for certain parts holding her in the air, spinning her. He slipped into a swing eventually, setting her on his feet and flinging her out, then back into his arms, crouching to do so. He would jump with her a few times, then swing her in his arms one last time before he cradled her for a few seconds, hugging her tight.

Her eyes drooped slightly. He smiled. "Let's get you to bed." He carried her upstairs, turning into the room just next to his own.

The door creaked as he opened it, giving him the feeling that the house was angry he was leaving. Pushing that thought away for the moment, he stepped inside the unlit room.

He pulled back the blankets from her bed, placing her in that spot, then tucked her in the blankets to keep her nice and warm.

Just before he made a move to walk away, Emily wrapped her fingers around two of his. "Zo'o," she spoke, half-lidded eyes gazing at him.

"Hmm?"

She beamed at him. "W'ove you."

For a moment, he just stared at her, a pang of guilt stabbing his heart. Then, tenderly he placed his lips on her forehead, pecking it and smiling. "Thank you..."

He left the room after that, returning to the couch. He sighed as his mother came up, sitting next to him. "Hey, ma'," he said.

She smiled at him. "You two are so cute," she swooned.

He shot her a playful glare. "Whatever. "

They sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

His mother seemed to be slightly subdued, he noted. Something was on her mind, that was for sure.

Though he was a very preservant person, noticing most everything, he was not a comforter. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to even talk to someone about anything, not unless he was in their exact position, and there was only one person in the world like that.

"How's school?" she asked him eventually.

Ah. That's what it was.

He shrugged. School wasn't that bad, except for the fact that he hated every bit it that ever existed. First things first, it was all easy. Of course, if he were a normal kid, it would not have been, but he was literally hundreds of years old, even Luffy picked up on all of it.

The teachers were not the greatest, strict to say the least. He had gotten suspended multiple times for stepping 'out of line'. His teacher thought he was so great because he was older. Well, truth be told, he's older! He should get the respect he deserves.

And the other kids were jackasses and made fun of him for his 'ridiculous' hair. He paid no mind to the insults he got, to him they were just being the brats they were. He was just happy that it was a weekend.

"'It's fine," he said. "Same as usual, though I haven't got in much trouble lately."

She sighed, closing her eyes, just to re-open them half a second later. "I'm glad 'bout that. What about your classmates?"

He was a tough person, impossible for anything to actually get to him, not anymore at least, she should get that. But then again, she was still a mother that worried, couldn't really blame her. "just the same, but I promise you, it will get better."

Just not in the way she expected.

She smiled. "Okay. Then, would you like a little snack?"

He nodded gratefully.

Midnight came sooner than he wanted, yet too slow at the same time.

He found his feelings conflicting. Both wanting and not wanting to go. Yet he would choose to go any day of his life. His captain was much more important than some temporary family.

Everyone was asleep, save for him. When he wasn't with them, he was in his room, waiting.

He grasped his bag, filled with every item that he would need. Hauling it over his shoulder, he crept through the house as silent as a ghost.

He left the front door unlocked, knowing it wouldn't really matter.

He trotted through the dark night, tired eyes surveying ever surrounding. He had no idea where the train station was.

Just have to leave it to luck.

Two hours later, staring at the train a little ahead of him, he deeply regretted that decision.

He wasted so much time just looking for the place, it would be ten times harder to not get found now.

He ran to the ticket center. Luckily, there weren't many people.

"And what would you be gettin', you cutie," the woman behind the bar, selling tickets asked him.

He placed a few dollars in front of him. He had saved a butloatld of cash over the nine years he'd been in this town. "One ticket to the nearest ship, please." He didn't know exactly where it was that a ship would be found, so he hoped that that would be sufficient.

The woman smiled at him, taking the bills. "Of course." She slid the ticket to him, and he grasped it in his hands. "Have a good trip."

He thanked her and ran off.

As he weaved through a growing crowd of people, he spotted a young girl, back turned towards him. He noticed the unnaturally orange hair and hurried towards her. He could hear his heartbeat in his chest, every beat getting faster in anticipation.

"Nami!" he called to her. She started walking away, not noticing him. He knew he had to do something, so he grabbed her wrist, eyes wide and filled with a hope that hasn't been there for longer than should be right.

It faded the moment she turned.

Though her hair may have matched, her eyes were a deep green that he knew did not belong to his former crew mate.

"What do you want?" She glared at him, clearly not liking his being near her, or touching her at all.

He let go, gazing at his feet and choosing himself for thinking that after so long, they would finally appear. He had come to terms with that until just then, and now he had to do it over again. "No, nothing. I'm sorry, wrong person."

"Well, next time, don't be such an idiot," she growled. She walked away, chin held high in the air, not bothering to say anything other than a 'whatever'.

"Damn it." He clenched his fists, so hard they were turning white. "Damn it," he repeated to himself.

A few long train rides, an unreasonable amount of ships, and a lot of walking later, taking the span of almost a month, he finally made it to his destination.

Deep in a forest, on an island know as Japan, far away from the place he was born this time over, he walked.

It was gorgeous, the sight. Trees towered over him,l. The ground and trees themselves covered in vibrant green moss.

He knew the place by heart, even though if changed over the years.

Japan was where he grew up the first time over, and it was his true home. He felt like he belonged there, in that forest of Japan, whenever he was there, seeing it's wonderful plants.

Eventually, he made it to his meeting place. A certain Shrine.

He couldn't actually see the shrine itself, but he knew he was very close from the stone steps that led up, deeper into the forest. There were stone Tōrō lining the steps, moss covering a good part of them, the steps, and everything in that forest.

When he reached the top, he stood under the Kuroki Torii, gazing at the Shrine. Nobody else knew about this place, only he and his captain. They were the ones that made it, after all.

It was not a normal shrine, though it may seem so from the outside view. There was no 'God' that resided there. But they did treat it just as if there was one.

Inside of the shrine, they placed every item that was important to them. His swords were there, Luffy's hat. But the things that were the most precious were, Usopp's slingshot, Nami's Clima-tact, Brook's violin and so on. They kept something from every one of them to keep as a memento. And they were the things that were sacred in there. None of those items had been removed from the Shrine since they first made it. The only times they even touched them, was when they were preserving them, nothing more.

There was another person there, bowing in a silent prayer.

He smiled dully.

He stepped next to the boy closing his eyes and bowing once. He lifting himself, then clapped his hands twice. He bowed a second time, keeping his palms together and touching his fingertips to his forehead to pray himself.

They did not pray to a God, they prayed more for the wellbeing of their Nakama's souls, Ace's, and anyone that they had come to know and love.

They prayed _to_ them, to help them find something that filled their hearts.

They were all meant to be respected.

He lifted his head, letting his eyes wander open. His heart was finally just as empty as it was supposed to be. It felt right to feel like that.

As he turned to look at the boy at his side, he saw that he was finished as well, and smiling flatly at him.

"Hey, Zoro," the boy greeted.

"Hey, Luffy."


End file.
